Not a Date!
by emmasvvan
Summary: It's not a date, okay? Just two friends going out to dinner with each other. Swan Queen oneshot.


**I know, I know, I should be working on Anonymous. This was originally going to be a small post on my blog but I saw so many possibilities on what would happen during their first non-date I just couldn't help it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time.**

* * *

Emma's finger hovered over the doorbell as she checked her baby blue, cap sleeve dress for the millionth time, worry slowly itching in her brain. Which she didn't know why, it's not like she was going on a _date_ or anything. She and Regina were just going out to dinner at a newly opened Italian restaurant near the border outside of Storybrooke, leaving Henry with his grandparents for the night. They were going as friends. Friends went to fancy dinners with each other, right?

She exhaled slowly, hoping that doing so would boost her confidence, and pressed down on the doorbell, hearing a small echo of it as it resonated through the interior of the mansion. She flattened her dress one more time, and clenched her jaw when the door opened, because if she hadn't, it probably would've screwed right off of her skull and drop to the floor.

Regina wore a black dress with one long sleeve that was skin-tight until it reached her waist, and then it had soft ruffles down to her ankles. Emma breathed deeply, hoping her face wasn't as red as the her friend's lipstick.

"Well," said Regina, starting conversation, a small smile on her face. "You look nice tonight."

Emma tried not to sputter like a fish out of water, doing her best to sound as natural as she could when she said, "You do too. Look really nice, I mean. You ready to go?"

Regina nodded, indicating the clutch that matched her dress in her hand. "Oh, and Miss Swan?"

Emma grinned. "You can call me Emma, you know, we're _friends_ now."

Regina rolled her eyes playfully, stepping out on the porch and shutting the door behind her. "Okay then, _Emma._" Emma ignored the chills that went through her spine. It was October; that was normal, right? "But I'm driving, and in my car."

Emma's face fell. "Aww, but what about Betsy?"

Regina wore a confused expression, looking back at Emma and pausing her strut to her Mercedes. "Betsy? Who?"

"My car," Emma said in a 'duh' tone.

Regina raised an eyebrow. "You named your car?"

"You didn't?"

Regina sighed, shaking her head. "Well, I frankly don't care what your car-"

"Her name is Betsy."

"- thinks about wanting to come to dinner with us, but we're going in _my_ car and _I'm_ driving." Emma's shoulders slouched, defeated, and followed Regina into her car, her small heels clicking on the pavement rhythmically. She got in the passenger seat, and Regina in the driver's. As the soft hum of the engine started, Emma looked out the window to where her yellow bug was sitting, waved her hand, and whispered, "Bye Betsy." Regina decided to ignore it.

Now on the road, Emma 'hmmmed' and asked, "Can I turn on the radio?", not waiting for an answer before flicking it on, some pop tune Emma knew but Regina didn't playing through the speakers.

Regina was about to give a firm disagreement to the sudden music and turn it off, but before she could, Emma said, "Hooray! I love this song!", so she kept quiet. It's not like it was distracting her in any way, and Emma obviously enjoyed the song. Yet when Emma started to tap her fingers on the console to the beat of the tune, the small and insignificant noise was enough to drive her insane.

"Stop that," demanded Regina.

"Stop what?" asked Emma, oblivious, and still tapping her fingers to the tune.

"That _tapping_ you're doing," Regina said, taking her right hand off the wheel to cease Emma's fingers, but miscalculated where Emma's hand was (as she was driving and wouldn't dare to take her eyes off the road), and instead accidentally put her hand over Emma's. As if they were _holding_ _hands_. But that couldn't happen. Because this wasn't a date.

"I… I'll stop," Emma managed to get out. Regina nodded as a response.

Both of them decided not to mention that Regina kept her hand where it was until they got to the restaurant.

* * *

Regina pursed her lips and closed her menu, placing it at the edge of table along with Emma's as the waiter walked off to the kitchen to retell their orders. "Emma, did you seriously order fettuccine alfredo?"

"What do you mean? Is that bad?" Emma scrunched her eyebrows, a befuddled look on her face, and Regina noticed the same cute way Henry did it…. except Emma's look wasn't cute. Emma wasn't cute. Right? Regina gathered herself together quickly, pushing such thoughts out of her head.

"Why would you order such a simple meal like that? This is the best Italian restaurant near Storybrooke; I was hoping your taste was better than noodles and sauce."

Emma huffed through her nose, slightly offended. "This is the _only_ Italian restaurant near Storybrooke. And I can order whatever I want. At least I can pronounce the name of my meal."

"Are you saying I can't pronounce my meal?" bit back Regina.

Emma thought for a second before muttering, almost to herself, "Well, _I_ can't pronounce it."

"Why would I care if you could pronounce my meal or not?"

Emma harrumphed. "Whatever," she grumbled, knowing that it was a sorry excuse to end the discussion, and took a sip of her wine. Regina, on the other hand, smirked, knowing she had won, and also took a sip of her own drink.

* * *

Dinner was probably as clean and elegant as either of them expected. And by that, Emma almost spilled the noodles are her nice dress about twice. "It's not my fault these stupid noodles are slippery!" was her defense.

As the check came by, Regina grabbed her clutch to get the money out, only for Emma to do the same.

"Oh no," Regina said. "I'm paying."

"And that's where you're wrong," said Emma. "_I'm_ paying." She took the bill holder and slid it near her.

"I don't think so," snapped Regina, taking the bill out of Emma's grasp and sliding it towards herself.

"Aww," cooed the waiter, standing beside them to take care of the payment. "Don't fight on your date because of a silly check. Just split it."

"It's not a date!" Emma and Regina shouted in unison, glaring at the waiter. He put his hands up in an apology.

"But…" continued Emma. "He's right. Let's just split it."

Not wanting to embarrass herself (and Emma, she guessed, but Emma embarrassed herself all the time so Regina rarely had sympathy for her), Regina just sighed and nodded in agreement, taking only some of the money from her wallet.

The first several minutes of the drive back were silent, and, of course, Emma needed to interrupt it. "Can you just drop me by my parents' apartment?"

Regina nodded. Emma glanced at her, eyes forward, posture straight as a rod, and her hands gripping the steering wheel pretty tightly. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Regina said sharply.

A disappointed expression crossed Emma's face, but she didn't say anything until Regina pulled onto the side of the street where the apartment was.

"You sure you okay?" repeated Emma.

"I just don't get why two friends can dress up and go out to eat together," Regina sighed.

"Well…" Emma started. "If it makes you feel better, this was the best non-date I've ever had." And with that, Emma gave a small peck to Regina's cheek, getting out of the car before and going inside the apartment before she could make a fool of herself any longer, her face pink and the excuse of how windy it was outside already on the tip of her tongue when she opened the door to see her mother reading and seated in the loveseat.

Luckily for her, Regina was too beet red and in her own world to notice Emma's embarrassment and blushing.


End file.
